Friendemies For Life
by velja
Summary: Follows directly after 1x20 "Blood Brothers". After Isobel's surprise-appearance at the Grill Alaric does the only thing he can think of in his slightly drunk state. He turns to Damon for help. No slash, just a funny little friendship story.


**Friendemies For Life**

by velja

**Pairing:** Damon/Alaric (friendship only, no slash)

**Genre:** Humor

**Spoilers:** Up to 1x20 "Blood Brothers". This immediately follows the end but ignores the web clips for the upcoming episode. This is what I'd like to see happening though I know it won't.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters or the show, I'm just borrowing them for fun purpose only. No money is being made from this.

**Summary:** Alaric does the only thing that comes to his (slightly drunk) mind after Isobel's surprise-appearance at the Grill. He turns to Damon.

_**Author's Note #1:** I read the term 'friendemies' in an LJ comment somewhere (I forgot who wrote it otherwise I would credit. So, consider yourself credited). It's a crossing of friends and enemies and I thought it perfect to describe their relationship._

_**Author's note #2:** As strange as it sounds, this story was inspired by Lady Antebellum's song "Need You Now", only not in the romantic way the song is meant to be. This is pure fun. Enjoy!_

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_**It's a quarter after one,**_

_**I'm all alone**_

_**And I need you now.**_

_**And I said I wouldn't call,**_

_**But I'm a little drunk**_

_**And I need you now,**_

_**And I don't know how**_

_**I can do without,**_

_**I just need you now**_

"_Need You Now", Lady Antebellum_

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Alaric's stunned stare followed the woman that he'd once loved like no one else as she purposefully strode out of the Grill's door.

Isobel. His wife.

His supposedly dead wife, turned into a vampire two years ago.

Here, in Mystic Falls. Now.

"Shit," he groaned and quickly knocked back another Whiskey. The alcohol burned down his throat but he signaled the bartender to keep them coming.

He knew he'd had way too much to drink, even before Isobel had shown up he'd downed several glasses already. He'd needed to... after his 'errand' with Damon, when he'd finally decided to let go of the past, when he'd determined to be done with all of this… Alaric had felt the need to underline this newfound closure with a drink. Or several.

And now…

"Shit," he repeated to himself and took a quick look around the bar. Three seats away a lonely middle-aged man sat nursing a beer, staring straight ahead and not blinking once. Apart from him and a group of college-aged boys at the pool table the Grill was nearly empty.

No one to talk to. No one willing to listen, to help him sort through the chaos and confusion marring his head.

Alaric took another sip of Whiskey and while swallowing it he dug a hand into his pocket to fish for his cell. He didn't need to sift through the contact list for long, the number he was looking for was right there at the top.

After all, it was the last number he'd called, only a few hours ago.

Alaric didn't give his brain time to change its mind but pressed dial and waited with held breath for the line to connect.

He didn't have to wait long. After only three rings a decidedly irritated voice barked: "Who's annoying me now?"

"Damon, it's me again. Alaric Saltzman," the words rushed out of his mouth in one go.

"Okay, you know what?" Damon sighed annoyed. "Tell me who gave you this number so that I can kill them already!"

Alaric could practically hear the vampire rolling his eyes in frustration and he quickly continued: "Something's come up, Damon. I, man… I don't know…"

"And I don't care," Damon cut him off. "One emotional breakdown from you is enough for a day. Actually, it will probably last for a life time, so piss off and share your feelings with somebody else."

"Isobel's here."

The two words were followed by a deafening silence.

"Damon?" Alaric asked after a while.

"Where's here?" Gone was the irritation from Damon's voice. He was all straight and business-like. "Where is she? Where are you?"

"She's gone now," Alaric rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "She came to me at the Grill and, man, she looked… I don't know. Like, like… oh damn, I can't deal with this!"

He took a shaky breath while Damon remained silent. Alaric went on: "Man, my head hurts. She was beautiful and it hurt to see her and… I can't think straight right now so I, I don't know. I need someone to, God, this is ridiculous, I know but… you need to help me figure this out, Damon. I need you to help me…"

"Get wasted? Looks like you managed that all on your own."

It took Alaric three stunned seconds in which he stared at the cell in his hand before he realized that something was different. Damon's voice hadn't come out of the phone. It had come from directly behind his seat.

Alaric's head shot around and there, right behind him, Damon stood, black clothes and all. His piercing blue eyes looked Alaric up and down and the trademark smirk grazed his features when he slid onto the barstool next to him.

Damon looked straight ahead and motioned for the bartender to get him a drink. Alaric watched him, stunned, and then, finally, remembered to shut his useless cell and put it on the counter before him.

"That was quick," he stated and knocked back another Whiskey.

"Vampire," Damon's smirk widened before he rose his drink to his lips. "Comes with a lot of perks."

"Right," Alaric scoffed and lowered his eyes to the bar. When he looked up again his eyes shone sincerely. "Thanks for coming."

Damon shrugged carelessly. "Yeah, well… I had a thousand other, meaning better, things planned for the night but, what can I say."

"What better things?" Alaric inquired with a mock smile. "People to kill, brothers to annoy?"

"That, and thinking out several ways to get rid of that fucking John Gilbert!"

Alaric's grin matched Damon's smirk. "Oh, how's that coming along? Anything besides the not so clever high speed snatch ring vamp kill move he mentioned the other night?"

"Not yet," Damon pulled a face. He clearly didn't like having the disadvantage. "But I'm working on it."

"Let me know when you got something, okay?"

Damon nodded and then his face turned serious. "So, Isobel, huh?"

When Alaric merely sighed Damon went on: "What did she want? Did she mention John Gilbert? Are they working together? And did she say anything about the invention? Or Elena? Do you think we should…"

"Whoa, hold on, buddy!" Alaric held up a hand to stop Damon's rant. "You're making my head buzz even more!"

"Well, then spill already!" Damon clearly wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. As much as he could sympathize with Alaric's current situation (he wasn't completely emotionless, no matter how hard he tried to hide the fact), it was important to cut to the chase now. If Elena was in danger…

"She didn't say much at all," Alaric eventually replied with a headshake. "It was just 'Hello Rick, good to see you again, bla bla.' Nothing about what she's planned or whatever. She was here barely two minutes. It's just… man, seeing her threw me right back to where I didn't wanna go ever again. I thought I was done with all of this!"

"Not likely," Damon shrugged and motioned the bartender over again. He grabbed the bottle out of the man's sweaty hand and filled both his and Alaric's tumbler again. The bottle stayed within reach.

"It's not that easy to leave your past behind, trust me. I should know."

Damon raised his Whiskey and waited for Alaric to suit up. They sat in silence for a while, each of them lost in their own thoughts while taking comfort in not having to drink alone for once.

* * *

"You know," Alaric stated after a while and turned his head to look at Damon. "This is starting to scare me."

"What?" Damon raised an eyebrow and grinned. "The way you're slowly becoming an alcoholic?"

"No," Alaric scoffed. He gestured with a rather uncoordinated hand back and forth between them. "This. Us sitting here together, drinking. It scares me how very normal it's becoming. Comforting, even."

"Oh, shut up," Damon shook his head and mocked: "Or you'll make me blush."

"No, I mean it," Alaric nodded seriously. "It feels frighteningly good to sit here with you. Talk to you. I wouldn't know anyone else I could do this with now. I don't have many friends…"

Damon nearly choked on his drink. "We are no friends, man. I don't have any friends and I don't need or want any! And even if I did, you wouldn't be on the list, man! You're too…"

"Smart?" Alaric quirked his lips.

"Human," Damon countered. "I can't be friends with a human."

"U-hu, so… that's a no then."

"Yes."

"It's a yes?"

"No!"

"Man, you're confusing me," Alaric complained and drank again. "What's it gonna be, yes or no?"

"I don't know!" Damon growled and knocked back his Whiskey as well. "I can't remember which one's the right answer."

Alaric could sympathize with that. He didn't know the beginning of their argument either. His head was too blurry right now. "Okay, then… lets try this differently. How would you define a friendship? What's a friend?"

"I don't know," Damon put his head in his hands and thought about it. "I can barely remember having one. Someone to hang out with. Friends hang out, don't they? They talk and do things together, like… kill people, and stuff."

"So that means we're friends," Alaric stated.

"What? No! We don't do that kind of stuff!" Damon looked clearly shocked.

"I hate to break it to you, buddy," Alaric countered with a smirk. "But that's exactly what we've done lately."

Damon quickly thought of something else. "Friends joke around and have fun."

"And weren't you the one who stated that he'd had fun the other night on our rescue-and-kill-mission?"

"Oh, right," Damon admitted. "But friends also drown their sorrows together."

"Been there, done that." Alaric pointed to their drinks.

"True." Suddenly Damon's eyes gleamed and he held up a finger. "Ah, but… friends also go out together, for a drink and stuff."

"Huh, I thought we'd covered that part already."

Damon shifted in his seat. "No, I mean… they make a date for it, like…" he held a hand to his ear as if he were speaking on the phone and continued: "Hey buddy, what's up tonight? Wanna go out, hit on a few ladies and get lucky? Or, if not, get wasted? Yeah? Cool, see you at eight!' I mean like that!"

Alaric pointed to his cell lying on the bar and said nothing. He simply waited for Damon to get it.

And Damon had to admit that he was slowly running out of options to counter the obvious. But it couldn't be, could it? They couldn't be friends! So eventually he pulled one last contra from the hat and stated very convincingly: "People have to share at least seven drinks before they become friends."

Alaric wasn't impressed. "Says who?"

"Says 'Men's Health'!"

"The magazine?"

"Yep, I read that a while ago."

"Huh," Alaric looked down at the Whiskey in his hand. "And what do you think, how many drinks did we have tonight?"

"I'd say about a dozen, why? You're wasted already?"

And then it dawned on Damon, too. Both men stared at each other and then let out a simultaneous sigh.

"Well, crap!"

"Right!"

"We're friends, huh?"

"Looks like it," Alaric nodded.

Damon shook his head in denial and then he suddenly furrowed his brow. "How do we turn that off again?"

"No idea," Alaric shrugged. "Share seven more drinks?"

"Sounds like a plan," Damon smirked and filled their glasses again.

"Drink up, Rick.," he raised his glass in a toast. "To our not-friendship."

"To being friendemies for life!"

Their glasses met with a soft cling and both men continued to drink in companionable silence. They enjoyed the smooth warmth that burned down their throats and felt it settle deep inside their stomachs.

Both knew that it wasn't the alcohol that produced the comforting warmness, they both felt that it was something else. Something inevitable.

Something good.

The knowledge that they'd found a kindred spirit in the last possible person. And it was okay with them.

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**THE END**

**This is a one-shot. There won't be more chapters.**

**As always, let me know what you think. And to all of you waiting for a new chapter of "Living With Vampires": I'm terribly sorry, I'm working on it. Please be patient, it's not forgotten. Just delayed.**


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